Attention
by SamanthaMae
Summary: Angela Shepard spends her Friday night by herself, drinking and wondering. [oneshot. not my best]


_**Attention**_

With booze on her right, a hairbrush on her left, Angela Shepard had everything in the world that she had ever wanted.

She had to laugh at that thought. Everything she ever wanted? She wanted to sit on the roof, hide from her stepfather and Curly's argument, and then pass out from too much alcohol? Christ, some life she had.

In all honesty that she was willing to admit while drinking, all she wanted was real attention. The only "attention" she had was having reputation, but just for being a Shepard.

After another swallow, she started wondering why God hated her so much. The only good thing he did for her was give her a pretty face. Then again, there was no God. There couldn't have been. Why would he put her in this family? The family that can go through anything untouched. The family that's so tough nothing can really hurt them.

Yeah. Right.

And that's why Tim had his first breakdown after Dallas Winston was killed and Tim got jailed…again. That's why Curly couldn't take care of himself without their older brother there. That's why Angela was always hiding herself behind makeup. But it's not like anyone else could see all that.

God, how drunk _was_ she? These were some deep thoughts.

She closed her eyes at the sound of Curly shouting. He sounded even more annoying than usual. Once again, Angela desperately wished for Tim. Then he could shut Curly the fuck up.

_I wonder how long I can grow my hair out…_

The downtown streetlights looked so pretty from the rooftop. It was like they were little dots…

A few moments later, she realized she had almost fell asleep. She couldn't let herself go to sleep; it was ten o'clock, and since she was real boozed up, her hangover wouldn't be too pleasant. She needed to wait for her to sober up some before calling it a night.

Then she remembered she was laying on the roof and laughed. Why didn't she include that in the list?

_I need something to do._

After her mind had argued for several minutes before she decided to just think. Think about her friends at school.

Well, a good place to start off was…

Judith Reynolds was a fun gal. She was two years older than Angela, but they got along okay. Judy was the one to introduce Angela to most of the boys she had known. Boys…a topic Judy knew well. Her older sister, Sylvia, dated Dallas Winston. But she don't really know the score like Judy. Angela and Judy could easily pick up boys at the Dingo.

Hmm…Heather was another. She was the same age as Angela, and she definitely wasn't as good-looking as Judy, but she was all right to hang out with. A little slow sometimes. She was pretty decent looking until she dyed her hair blond. Brown was a better colour on her--that was for sure.

Glory, Angela didn't even know Heather's last name. She tried to remember, then gave up shortly after.

And then there was…

Well, the thoughts of her friends bored her beyond belief. Maybe that wasn't such a great topic.

What about…her…family?

She found herself snorting. Family? What's there to think about? Just some woman and a drunk raising three children. Two of them were constantly thrown into jail. The other was always out partying with friends, drinking until she became emotional.

Kind of like what she was doing now.

Her mother…Angela had to admit she had a slight respect for her. She went through hell trying to keep them in school, which didn't work for Tim and was starting to fade off for Curly. Angela saw no reason to drop out; it was a good way to meet cute boys.

She didn't even want to think about her stepfather, who did nothing but drank and watched television all day while her mother cooked, cleaned, and worked. Angela swore to herself that if she was ever to be married, it'd be to some guy who'd get off his ass at least once a day.

She sighed, knowing Tim was next.

Tim grew a little more bitter when Dallas had died. Currently he was in jail for pulling a blade out during a fight. Of course, the cops came and busted him. She felt sorry for him. She knew how close he and Dally were--almost brothers. Tim didn't even go to his funeral, but everyone knew he missed ole Dallas.

At least he didn't cry. She had to respect that.

Unfortunately, all families have their idiot that can't stop doing stupid moves if his life depended on it. In the Shepards, it would without a doubt be Curly. He _just_ got out of reformatory for robbing a liquor store, and he was already looking for more trouble. He's fifteen, for Pete's sake!

Angela heard--what sounded like--a lamp being smashed onto the wall. Then more of Curly's yelling. She wondered how she could even handle this until she was able to leave.

Every morning for eight days, she'd been woken up by a racket of screaming. It was getting worse every time. Sure, once in a while the family would have a fighting match, along with throwing things across the house, but not on a daily routine.

She finished off her bottle and threw it towards the back yard. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't goddamn fair.

Her eyes began wandering the night sky. She only did that when she was real soused. She traced her finger around the dots, making patterns and picturing images. Her hand dropped as her eyelids became heavy. A deep force pulled over her, causing her to fall asleep once again.

Though what seemed like seconds later, she heard someone screaming her name. She was too dazed to respond.

When she completely woke up, she managed to make out, "Angela, what the _fuck_ are you doing up here?"

Curly was standing at her window, probably wondering both what she was doing, and how she got up there. She shrugged, feeling a bit dizzy.

"What time is it?" She always felt confused when waking up.

"Midnight. C'mon, the phone's for you downstairs."

He left while she began to feel even more confused. She'd been sleeping for nearly two hours! It sure as hell didn't feel that long.

After her stumbling walk, she reached the telephone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Angel, it's Bryon."

She sighed. Bryon…something that started with D. How many dates have they been on? Three? And he already was calling her once every few days, just to see how she was doing. But she liked it.

At least someone was giving her attention.


End file.
